The Games Plan
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About this ebook
Thanks to a bureaucratic quibble three unwary Zimbabwean table tennis players manage to qualify to the London 2012 Olympic Games, with actually the sole intent of fleeing their country's dictatorial regime. When their plan goes awry they resort to an even crazier idea: kidnapping the biggest star of the Games and using the ransom to buy their freedom.
Andrea Lombardi
Andrea Lombardi è autore poco prolifico di sceneggiature di scarso successo, fiabe per bambini e racconti quasi sempre poco seri, vagamente surreali e almeno in parte autobiografici.È nato a Roma, dove per fortuna o per disgrazia abita da sempre.
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The Games Plan - Andrea Lombardi
Andrea Lombardi
The Games Plan
© All rights reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the Author
You can report errors or typos by writing to: lombardi.andrea@tiscali.it
Contents
Glossary
The Games Plan
Glossary
Although formatted to be read as an ebook on portable devices, this screenplay retains some conventional cinematic terms. If you’re not used to reading screenplays, this may be a good opportunity to learn what these terms mean.
INT.: the scene takes place indoor.
EXT: the scene takes place outdoor.
V.O.: voice over, namely the voice of characters not seen and not physically present in the scene (narrator’s voice, voices from amplifiers, telephones, etc.).
O.S.: off-screen, meaning the voice of characters physically present in the scene but which are not seen.
SUPER: textual information appearing on the screen.
MONTAGE: a sequence of short scenes and/or single shots, often accompanied by music.
FADE IN:
...to the rhythm of cheerful REGGAE MUSIC and a limpid, sunny sky, stretching over a colorful crowd filling the streets and sidewalks of a residential district with wide smiles and a multitude of Jamaican flags.
SUPER: BRIXTON, SOUTH LONDON, ENGLAND
The celebrations for the Jamaican Independence Day are in full swing, black-yellow-and-green caps and shirts about anywhere as young and old, men and women keep talking, dancing and smiling all across the neighborhood, through which everything seems to pulse to the reggae rhythm as kids jump rope and old rasta fellas play dice under the sign of a SOUVENIR SHOP.
INT. JAMAICAN SOUVENIR SHOP – DAY
An old stereo keeps pumping music as tourists and customers move along rows of packed shelves and displays...
MALE VOICE (V.O.): You know, the world can really be a strange place sometimes...
...walking past Island-shaped alarm clocks and Bob Marley plushes, dreadlocked dolls and Cool Runnings posters...
MALE VOICE (V.O.): ...one minute you're sipping coffee as you count the money from your register, the next one you're talking with people you didn't even think could exist, hearing stories you wouldn't believe if only you didn't see them with your own eyes.
...a heap of liquor bottles and cigar boxes, and a counter filled with rum-flavoured cakes.
MALE VOICE (V.O.): Some stories from the corner of your backyard, other ones from very far...
Behind the counter the wall is covered by photos and posters of beautiful landscapes from all around the world: a tumbledown castle in the boundless Scottish Highlands. The boreal dawn over the Arctic Pole. The snowy peak of the Fujiyama. The Eiffel Tower and the Coliseum. And a wonderful sunset over a Jamaican beach standing out right at the center of the wall.
MALE VOICE (V.O.): ...and then there are stories from just the other side of the world.
The reggae fades to AFRICAN TRIBAL MUSIC as we CUT TO:
EXT. REMOTE SUN-DRENCHED VILLAGE – DAY
A desolate landscape of brown dust and pebbles, the sun hitting hard on a stretch of low shacks with thatched roofs.
SUPER: SILOBELA VILLAGE, ZIMBABWE, MARCH OF 2012
Followed by a cloud of dust a panting young man, EDWIN, runs like a madman down the street with three big jute sacs, a Ferrari cap, and a pair of old shoes which won't last another mile.
EDWIN: It's late, I'm too damn late!
He flies around a hovel, jumps into what looks like a cross-breed between a '70s Ford Taunus and a chicken coop. As he fires the engine it almost explodes. He jumps out in a cloud of smoke.
EDWIN: I knew it, it couldn't have broken on any other day!
He runs to a rusty bicycle as he shouts to an open window.
EDWIN: Uncle Bika, I need the bike!
UNCLE BIKA (O.S.): Forget it! You almost destroyed it last time, just leave it where it is!
EDWIN: Alright, I'll be walking...
He jumps on the bike, loses both fenders along the way as he rolls over a bump.
EDWIN: I just hope those two will get there before me!
INT. KIDAL'S BEDROOM – DAY
A long line of scraggly plush pets and a black and white Michael Jackson poster in what seems the extra-poor version of a teenager bedroom. A deep, low snore fills the air as KIDAL, a grown man well into his 30s and with a neatly groomed mustache, blissfully sleeps with a hairnet on. The snore stops to a distant cockcrow as he slowly opens his eyes. Heaves a yawn and sees the sun outside the window. A beat and:
KIDAL: Moooooooom!!
Kidal's MOTHER arrives running with his breakfast on a tray.
KIDAL'S MOM: Are you already awake, dear?
KIDAL: Mom, I had to wake up an hour ago, I told you!
KIDAL'S MOM: Well, you looked so relaxed, and you never work on Friday so... why did you have to get up early, anyway?
KIDAL: Well, Edwin didn't tell me, but –
KIDAL'S MOM: I made you a ginger cake.
KIDAL: Mom, I have to... bring it in the kitchen, okay? And a mirror with my comb, too!
He removes the hairnet to reveal slicked, perfectly straight hair, then takes a wooden doll out of his nightstand drawer.
KIDAL: Seems like it's going to be a great day, Babu, I guess I'll need your help more than ever!
KIDAL'S MOM (O.S.): You said you would've stopped with that doll!
KIDAL: Mom, the comb!
EXT. LEON'S RESTAURANT – DAY
A chubby, silent man in his 30s stands outside a deserted stone and straw tavern. A washed out sign reads LEON'S FLAVOR GARDEN as a bunch of kids stand around him.
FAT KID: Leon, can I have a breadstick?
LEON: No.
SNOTTY KID: Can I have an egg, Leon?
LEON: No.
LITTLE GIRL: Leon, will you take me to the well?
LEON: No! I must look after the restaurant, will you leave me alone?
FAT KID: The restaurant is empty, what do you have to look after?
LEON: Well, I have to –
SNOTTY KID: Can I have a breadstick, Leon? I'm so hungry!
LEON: No! Why don't you... (he heaves a sigh, eyes to the sky) Just one, okay?
The kids smile, run across him and dive into the restaurant.
EXT. ZIMBABWE VILLAGE – DAY
A long line of rusty billboards repeats the imposing image of a black, stern face staring down the dirt roads as Edwin pedals like a locomotive across the village, old men and women smiling and greeting him as he passes by.
OLD MAN: Good luck for today, Edwin!
EDWIN: Thank you, I won't miss my chance!
He turns around to greet a group of kids when he spots a young, beautiful girl smiling at him. He straightens up on the pedals and smiles back shyly, just as a three-wheeler full of twigs crosses the street ahead of him.
THREE-WHEELER DRIVER: Hey, watch out!
Edwin avoids it by a whisker, storms across a flock of hens.
EDWIN: Holy peanut!
He jumps over a woodpile, the headlight flies away as an old black Mercedes screeches right before the bike. Edwin brakes hard, stops a few inches from the driver's window and the military uniform which appears behind it.
EDWIN: Colonel Saheed, a very good day to you, Sir!
COLONEL SAHEED, 50s, grim face and a big pair of shades, stares at Edwin as if he were the enemy behind a trench.
SAHEED: What the hell are you doing? Is this the way you deliver the mail?!
EDWIN: Actually I'm on